Ugly Bags of Mostly Water & Magic Capsules

If you’re a Trekkie, you probably got the reference in today’s post title. An episode of the original series engaged an alien race who described humans as “ugly bags of mostly water”. I’m not that much of a Trekkie and I didn’t really like the original series that much, but two episodes stuck with me through the years. I’ll talk about the second episode in a moment.

Why did the “ugly bags of mostly water” episode come to mind last night? I’ve learned that when on an initiatory journey, like the one I started last night, it is best not to waste energy on those kinds of whys. It came to mind, so it has relevance. Thinking about being mostly water led me to thinking about Dr. Emoto’s work with water crystals. This reminded me of what he named as the three most effective phrases for healing water.

I love you. I thank you. I respect you.

I woke up this morning with these phrases in my head and understood them to be the beginning of moving into right relationship with my body, which is mostly water. Today, I began with my toes. I love you toes – you help me stay balanced, you can pick things up from the carpet, you look so pretty with polish,… I thank you toes – for contracting when it’s not safe to move ahead, for be willing to test the waters, for patiently waiting for breath and blood. I respect you toes and honor your need, at this time, to lengthen out, to wiggle in joy, to be in mud.

Being present with my toes for the time it took to express my love, discern my gratitude and listen to their needs was really quite wonderful and enlivening. I pressed each toe into the ground, saying hello to each one separately. I wiggled them. I invited them to lengthen out as far as they could and felt their sigh of pleasure. My toes have been dancing all day and I love my awareness of them. Their pleasure is rippling up my body and I’m feeling ease in my calves and knees that I haven’t felt for a long time. Tomorrow, I shall talk with my calves – after saying good morning to my toes, of course.


Photo by Ana Grave on Unsplash

The second Star Trek episode that I remember was about some women in a cave, who had been enslaved by an alien entity. The crew was confounded as to how they were enslaved. There were no bars, no chains, no beatings. Despite the prime directive to not interfere, the crew did. After doing so, they arrived at the cave to find not the beautiful sexy women they had met earlier, but old haggard and wrinkled women. You see, in response to their interference, the entity had withheld the pills that made the women beautiful. The women were sad and furious. Dr. McCoy to the rescue! He gave them placebos. They gratefully took the pills the doctor said were replicas of what they’d been taking. The women transformed back into the sexy goddesses within a few seconds of taking the placebos.

I always feel beautiful – where on the scale of beauty I’m standing depends on the day, of course. But of late, I have not felt vibrant. I’ve felt dull. I’ve been dragging. I’ve felt my wick waning. I’ve been telling myself that I feel these things and they’ve become a bit of a mantra. I’ve been seeing myself as old and disabled. That’s an awful pill to swallow.

The magic capsule episode came to mind this morning after I played with my toes. A little wiggle of my toes has me feeling giddy with the vibrant energy that’s flowing from them. My science brain is telling me that of course wiggling toes would have a full body effect. All the meridians meet at the toes. To wiggle the toes engages with all those meridians, which run through my entire body. Yeah, yeah, yeah. But wiggling my toes does not necessitate I  look for the flow of energy and vibrancy in the rest of my body. Yet, that is exactly what I am doing. My awareness of the vibrancy in my toes led me to look for signs of that same vibrancy in the rest of my body. Because I was looking for it, I found it. I feel it. I am it. Oh, the magic of quantum mechanics: what we look for, we will find. Thank you Gene Roddenberry for the episode about quantum mechanics! I feel a cellular response to my desire to see vibrancy. I feel like a tree after a long hard winter; my sap is rising. That’s my story today.


Photo by Lisa Para

Here’s to wiggling toes, quantum mechanics and a joyful initiation on the quest to finding my first guidepost. I’m fairly certain that I will find it within me – that I am the embodiment of at least this first guidepost. ~ Lena

Missing Earth: My Offering at the Crossroad

In my last post I talked about the vital need to share our stories, so that we can create purpose, kindness and harmony from the ashes of our chaotic world. I promised in this post to share a personal story. It feels so important to me, at this time in my life and in our times to name, re-frame and claim our stories. Each of these pieces carries its own challenges. To name something requires discernment and making a choice.

I am a large woman. I started putting on weight in grad school, then stayed steady and at menopause gained more weight. The reality is that I’ve been a large woman only half of my life, but I’ve been called fat since before I was in school. I remember a specific instance when I was told I shouldn’t be able to wear my brother’s pants. The message I got was that boys are bigger and therefore I was too big. I was about 5 years old. The brother in question was 3-1/2. When I look at old pictures, I see that I was perfectly normal and healthy. I was beautiful in my high school prom picture. I remember boys hitting on me, but I thought they were making fun of me. You see I what I felt and saw in the mirror never matched what my family and the world seemed to be telling me. When it came to physicality, I didn’t know what to trust.

Me thru time

Now, I work as a psychic and empath. I’m really good at working between the worlds. It’s a place that’s separate from the physical. It’s mysterious, engaging and inspiring. And not trusting my physicality seemed to have no bearing.

I need to say that my size has not been a stumbling block in my life. I was often told I was pretty; I’ve always known that I’m smart, witty and creative. I’ve had a good life. I’ve lived a very focused life – focused on my work and being of service to the world. I’ve been happy. But I have not been truly connected to my body – my physicality has always been less significant to me.

In the last few years, I’ve experienced inflammation, significant joint pain, teeth issues and low energy. The doctors take one look at me and assume I have heart issues. They cling to that despite tests that indicate only that “I might have a mild issue.” They offered no other guidance – and because of the traumatic tests and their shrug of shoulders when it wasn’t what they thought – I didn’t follow through. The truth is, I have limited mobility and that scares me.

Re-frame: I’ve been playing a shame and blame game around my body for the last couple years and in my anxiety as I searched for the right foods and answers to my body’s issues – I’ve gotten worse. Then Spider Woman came to me in a journey and taught me a few things about being an empath. Because we’re so sensitive to those around us, empaths often lose track of themselves, of who they are. As a result, we’re often on a lifetime quest to find home. After chatting, Spider Woman challenged me to find the guideposts upon which to build the web of my life. These guideposts are constant – even when we shed old webs and stop onto new ones. She suggested that my anxiety about not knowing home was directly linked to not identifying my guideposts – and to my physical health. My life’s web is not attached to a physical structure upon which I can rely. When you find your guideposts, you will immediately know how to trust them. Your work between the worlds is beautiful, but you must learn to return to and honor your physical structure.

This journey with Spider Woman happened just before the solar eclipse this last August and I have been looking for my guideposts ever since. I wasn’t sure where to find them or even what sort of thing a guidepost might be. Tonight, Heimdallr – via the Oracle of Initiation Deck – made it very clear. “Heimdallr’s glowing portal requires incorporation of the missing element, earth, to balance the passage between the worlds.” I have spent my life holding my physicality (my earth) as insignificant. Now I see it’s the missing element.

My first guidepost: I am a sensual nature being. I know the absolute truth of this, immediately. But where is this guidepost? It feels like it’s in an overgrown and neglected garden – like in the Secret Garden movie. Like that garden, it seems walled off and locked but I know it has wick; it is alive.

Claim: My quest then is to unlock the garden and tend to it, to uncover this,  my first guidepost. I commit to doing that and to sharing the journey as part of my sacred story.  It feels raw and vulnerable to make this commitment. Voices in my head are asking all sorts of questions – like, what if they think you’re ridiculous or crazy, … But another voice is telling me that this part of storytelling is not about the listeners; it’s about the person living the story and watching it unravel. And another voice is smiling and simply asking me if I’m going to walk my talk. Yes, I choose to risk sharing my story so that you may know my heart.


Photo by Mellissae Lucia

As I was searching for photos for this post, I found some from 2010 when I participated in Mellissae Lucia’s Painted Body Initiation. I realize that experience was a ritual engagement with this guidepost – but I didn’t understand its significance. The link will take you to a post about that experience. Can you sense the guidepost in the experience?

Thank you for witnessing my story.  ~ Lena

Me Too: Women at the Crossroads

This post is not about abuse. The recent meme on Facebook creates an awareness about an issue that has been hidden and shame ridden. One man wrote that he knew intellectually that abuse against women was out of control, but to see posts from his friends, associates, his sister and daughter brought the story home. It even inspired him to look at ways he may have contributed to women feeling uncomfortable. But this post is not about abuse.


Photo by Henri Meilhac on Unsplash

It’s about storytelling. Women, brave women, have led us to the crossroads where we tell our stories. Whether it’s a collective story of “Me too” or personal stories that touch our hearts and open them – our stories must be shared so that we can create purpose, kindness and harmony from the ashes of our chaotic world.


If anyone is in doubt that we are collectively at a crossroad – watch the news. Crossroads hold the unknown. At a crossroad, we sometimes freeze in indecision, fear and resistance. Sometimes we act out – ranting, bitching, blaming, shaming – because we are uncomfortable or we have a need to imagine we have more control than we’re feeling. Sometimes, we talk about things that don’t matter – just to distract ourselves and others from the reality of the crossroad.


Photo by Mike Enerio on Unsplash

But the crossroad is a place of mystery and possibility. If we can slow down, breathe, tell our stories and listen to one another with an open heart – we will know what to do to change the world. Feel it calling.

I know what some of you are thinking: that’s sweet, but I can’t fix the world – and I certainly can’t make choices that will affect the entire world.

Ah, but you can. Physicist, Dr. Gregg Braden tells us that it only takes the square root of 1% of the population to create change. That’s a very small number. According to “Newgeography”, over half of the US, lives in cities with about 25,000 people. Let’s use that number. It only takes about 16 people to create change in a population of 25,000. Do the math and open to the reality that you can make change. And it’s time for us to take up the challenge of creating change, instead of leaving it up to the metaphorical 16 people who scream at us on twitter and the daily news. We cannot let them dictate the story of who we are becoming. We must, at least,  throw our stories and our dreams into the mix. Whether we do, or don’t, we will be affecting the entire world.


Photo by Karl Magnuson on Unsplash

Women have gathered at the crossroads throughout history. We are the gatherers. We’ve gathered at wells, around the cooking fire, in the Red Tent, in quilting bees, down at the river. We’ve shared our stories and banded together to make necessary change. Until recent decades, we have cried, “Me too,” for centuries. And from those me too’s, we’ve discovered the paths to take at every crossroad. The world needs this feminine way of gathering, listening, discerning and action.

I’d like to be clear that change is not about gender. The roots of change I’m calling us to is about the feminine energies of taking time to gather, to listen, to witness, to fiercely stand in our knowing and demand that the needs of the family, village, community be met. This feminine energy exists in all of us – men and women – and it’s time for it to take center stage. And once we’ve heard each other’s hearts, we need the masculine energies within each of us to take our intentions and make them manifest in the world.

How do we start? We gather at the dinner table and listen to each other’s stories – not sound bites – real stories from people you can see and hear IRL (in real life). When friends or colleagues ask how we are, we tell them something significant. And when we ask them, we look at them and listen to their answer. We make time (we can’t afford not to anymore) to gather regularly – to witness and be witnessed in our lives. We find our feminine voices and use them. It’s not rocket science, folks. It can be as scary as hitting that ignition switch, but only because we’re out of practice. When we risk it, we find deep joy and the magic of shared hearts.

It is the witnessed life that matters. It is the shared life/story that nurtures and heals. Social media has its uses and can give us the distance we might need to try out our voices without having to look anyone in the eye. Through it, we can inspire and inform. But we cannot gather in circle to hear each other’s voices, see each other’s hearts, hold each other’s hands.

Women have gathered us. We’re here at the crossroad, needing our hearts to be heard and our lives to be changed. This time Me too cannot be our rallying call or our quiet voice of sharing; it’s been taken. Perhaps, I’ll be a witness, I’m listening, I have time, or I have a story – or maybe we need to just take one little action, today.Head shot

I do have a story. Today, I make the commitment to share. Let me gather its threads and share it on my next post. Until then, …  ~ Lena

Here’s Some Light for Your Journey

This afternoon I was reading Lorna Bevin’s weekly forecast. It’s not unusual for me to read a forecast and say to myself, “That’s how I felt last week, or two days ago.” As a sensitive I often feel energies long before they actually “land”. Several friends who are also highly empathic and sensitive say they have similar experiences.

If you read my last post, you know that last week was a doozie – very intense with lots of insight and a teaching. It slammed me out of all expected proportion. This week I feel fairly grounded and able to take on the world – the world, that Lorna says will be dealing with energies where “Everything – good or bad – will be dramatised and blown out of all proportion.”

As I read further, Lorna encouraged me to be the light in the darkness. Happy to be that.

Oh?! Well, isn’t’ that brilliant (pun not intended, but thoroughly enjoyed)!

Did I just tap into one of the key functions of a sensitive? Do we feel things before anyone else so that we can deal with it and then be ready to serve when whatever it is, lands for the collective? It makes sense on two fronts. First, as a sensitive, if I have to work with intense energies – I’d prefer to do it without everyone around me also being intense. It is definitely easier for me to process in an environment that is more grounded and calm. Second, having already worked with the intense energies, as an experienced sensitive, I can stay grounded while offering love and light to those around me. It just makes plain good sense. Brilliant!

The next time someone tells me I’m too sensitive, I’ll suggest they thank me. And the next time I feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the collective, I’ll remember to simply shine my light and love into the field to help ground and calm.

When one can make sense of the challenges that go with the gifts they carry, it makes a world of difference. It’s pure magic. We sensitives have a tendency to hide, mostly for self-preservation. For me, it’s time to step out boldly and courageously – to openheartedly offer my gifts and trust that they will be welcomed (even if they’re not understood or consciously noticed – and even if they call me a freak).

Lorna, in her forecast, continues to encourage with Clarissa Pinkola Estes’ wonderful call to action:
“One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul. Soul on deck shines like gold in dark times. The light of the soul throws sparks, can send up flares, builds signal fires, causes proper matters to catch fire. To display the lantern of soul in shadowy times like these — to be fierce and to show mercy toward others; both are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity. Struggling souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it. If you would help to calm the tumult, this is one of the strongest things you can do.

There will always be times when you feel discouraged. I too have felt despair many times in my life, but I do not keep a chair for it. I will not entertain it. It is not allowed to eat from my plate.

In that spirit, I hope you will write this on your wall: When a great ship is in harbor and moored, it is safe, there can be no doubt. But that is not what great ships are built for.”

Thank you Lorna for your insight and the gifts you share with the world through the science of the stars. Today, you have made a significant difference in my life and brought me joy. Deep gratitude to you.

Check out Lorna’s website Hare in the Moon Astrology and find her monthly and weekly forecasts.

Here’s some beauty, light and love via fall brilliance from the Rogue River Valley:

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Blessings, ~ Lena

Can We Really Change Our Stories?

Honestly, I consider storytelling one of our most powerful tools. Our stories define us and create the lives we live. Sometimes I wonder if, at least for me, that is why I carry the gift of being a high empath. People’s stories are pretty transparent when I open to them – and being a high empath, people easily share their stories with me. Because of this, I get a unique look at the world – I see the stories that show up again and again. I feel their pain, their joy, their confusion, ….
For years, I thought my job was to share these common stories so that people don’t feel alone. In recent years, my gifts as a storyteller have emerged and I thought this was so I could share and teach more effectively -through the use of story. Both of these roles are relevant, but lately it has become clear that there’s more to it.
Science is giving us back our stories. Biologist, Dr. Bruce Lipton challenges us not to act as victims of our genes, but rather to understand it is the environment in which the genes live that creates our reality. That environment stems from our thoughts and beliefs – (our stories). Researchers Candace Pert and Brené Brown link our emotions to our health and well-being. Our emotions and our stories cannot be separated. Physicist, Gregg Braden and Gary Zukav – thru the science of quantum mechanics – teach us that we will always find what we look for. It is the stories we carry and tell that become the lens through which we observe our lives. Cellular, emotional and quantum insights have inspired a new interest in the power of story.
We’re being invited to recognize the stories we carry and how we carry them – AND, we’re being encouraged to revise our stories so that they truly serve us. The energy of the recent solar eclipse significantly opened opportunities to reveal our truths to us – those energies are still active.
Yesterday, I was hit squarely in the eye by an old story – a painful one that shows up as a devastating thought. It goes something like this: Everyone wants a piece of me and no one can see that I’m sitting here bleeding. This is not an unusual feeling for an empath. It happens when we give and give without remembering to tend to our own needs. I never feel so alone in the world as when that thought comes knocking. It doesn’t happen often anymore, but yesterday, it busted the door open.
Those eclipse energies are helping us release stories that don’t serve us and showing us ways to move on. The really good news is…
We don’t need to wallow in the story or pick it apart until we’ve squeezed every last bit of awareness from it. We’ve spent the last several decades doing that, but it’s no longer helpful to us. The wallowing and picking just keep us in the story we no longer want to inhabit.
So how did I work with yesterday’s story? I felt it. It came as a perfect storm, where intellectualizing about it just wasn’t possible. I felt alone. I felt devastated by it. Usually, this story comes up as a direct result of some specific interaction with people. I get angry, blame them, swear to myself I’ll never help again and hide in my own corner of the world for a few days. When I was a teenager I went to the basement and blasted “I Wanna Be Somebody’s Baby” until I felt better.
Yesterday, there was no incident and no one to attach my feelings to – no one except me. I was the one who didn’t know I was bleeding; I didn’t notice.
In the last few weeks, I’ve been highly focused on learning social media marketing to promote my books and business. I was staggering under a list of to-dos that will never end. I pressured myself to post, blog and make videos; to design classes and meet with people – all so that I could continue doing what I love.
I love writing, storytelling and teaching. I’m learning marketing so that I can do what I love. Yet, in the last few weeks, I’ve done very little of what I love. In fact, the only place I was in the joy was when I was engaging with the community on my Facebook Group: Psychics, Intuitives, Empaths & Sensitives. That was the only place I was engaging in the magic of what I do.
With all this revelation, I couldn’t help but ask the question, “Have I always been the one who didn’t know I was bleeding?” My truth: I’ve always been one of the ones who didn’t know I was bleeding.
Yes, my sense of devastation and feeling alone deepened a notch or two. I sat there with tears rolling down my cheeks. What do I need to do to change this?
Because I felt a little helpless around answering this question, I metaphorically threw up my hands in defeat and continued crying. And then, something wonderful happened…
The thought came again and this time the story felt like a caress. I was shocked and I tried to push it away; I did not want this thought/story to be part of my life. But it was fierce and stood its ground, at the same time it emitted loving energy. Somehow, I heard it tell me, “I am your ally. I’m here in service to you.”
Shock and confusion can be wonderful things when a well trenched story needs to change. I shook my head and thought, what the fuck?!  (I rarely use the F word, except when I’m very stressed.)
I was at a loss; I had no idea what to do? And that’s when my resistance yielded and this new story could take root. My truth: this thought is an ally – a fierce one that knows how to get my attention and put me on alert. It only visits when I’ve missed earlier warning signs, like “I’m really tired,” and “I’d like to escape to …..”
the story matrix
This thought that I’m bleeding and everyone wants a piece of me is no longer a story about being used up, ignored and underappreciated by my friends/family/community. This ally, this fierce and loving ally, shows up as a thought to tell me I need to take care of myself, now.
I hope that I never see this ally again. And, I am deeply grateful to know she will show up, if necessary and lovingly order me back into balance.
While I’m sharing gratitude, here’s a shout out to Barry Manilow, who always noticed I was bleeding and sent me his music and lyrics as a balm. He raged with me in “I Wanna Be Somebody’s Baby”  and inspired me to give things another shot with “One Voice”.
Here’s to all our allies and here’s hoping we see them clearly.  Much love to you all! ~ Lena

Do I Have the Courage?

I’m on the precipice. There’s no going back; the joy has left that path and I just feel bored when I consider staying put. My toes are gripping the edge of the cliff. But I have no idea what it is that I’m jumping into. It calls me, but ….Do I have the courage to jump?

I’ve been sitting with this question for a couple of days. I’ve been beating myself up for lacking the courage I think I need. But I just can’t move. My calves are cramping, but still I teeter. This question seems to just keep me stuck.

As soon as I hear myself say the word stuck, it occurs to me that I’m asking an unworthy question. (See earlier post on The Unworthy Question.) I step back from that teetering edge and consider what is going on. The situation feels ambiguous. I’m not really sure what it is that I need to leave. I love working with private clients. I enjoy writing. I’m even feeling intrigued with learning about effective use of social media. Yet, something is off. I feel bored with myself, with my life.

Something is calling me. I can feel it, hear it. It draws me – but I don’t know what it is. I just feel that I need it. But maybe I’m wrong.  Do I have the courage to jump anyway?

Ding, ding, ding! Of course I’m teetering; I’m asking a question full of doubt.

I trust myself enough to trust my knowing that I need to jump. The question I need is: Where do I find the courage? Yes, that feels better. This question infers that I will find the courage, even if I don’t know where. This question just makes plain good sense. I relax and open to possibilities.

I decide to check my emails. My friend, Suzy Wenger, is traveling in Ireland and has sent me a photo from the Cliffs of Moher.

Cliffs of Moher - Suzy

Cliffs of Moher, Ireland – Photo by Suzy Wenger

I feel transported and intrigued by the mysterious caves, rock formations and the water itself. I want to stand on top of the cliffs and dive. I imagine doing so: the wind blowing through my hair, the freedom of the fall, the welcoming waves, all the possibilities to explore. Yes, I feel fear too. But the mystery calls me more fiercely than the voice of fear; louder than my science brain that tells me there are rocks below the water and that the water is freezing.

Where do I find the courage to jump? In the mystery, I find it in the mystery – right next to adventure, curiosity and wings – my wings. It’s simply time to fly.  I no longer need courage, I just need to remember that I have wings – and that the mystery holds magic. Who’d have guessed I’d find all that in a photo – minutes after I found the worthy question.

Wanna know where my wings are taking me? Me too. I’ll share it in my next post.
Head shot

Preening my wings in preparation for flight, ~ Lena